Strawberry Milk
by Voluptuous
Summary: "A grown man with a pink milk moustache wasn't one of the most arousing sights I'd ever seen, but I had to give him points for making me laugh." AU GrimIchi! Grimmjow's repeated attempts at wooing the ginger, all somehow revolving around their shared love for strawberry milk. Hiatus?
1. Chapter 1- Counter Kissing

Summary- "A grown man with a pink milk moustache wasn't one of the most arousing sights I'd ever seen, but I had to give him points for making me laugh." ~ AU GrimIchi! Grimmjow's repeated attempts at wooing the ginger, all somehow revolving around their shared love for strawberry milk.

A/N- I do not own bleach, nor do I own strawberry milk, because there is only an empty bottle left. I dedicate this to my empty bottle of strawberry milk, and the wonderful time we shared as I devoured you. 3 You shall forever be in my memory, and I shall never stop loving you. R.I.P.

* * *

I survive on a diet of two-minute noodles and strawberry milk.

My name, it just so happens, can be interpreted as 'strawberry' by those with limited intelligence.

This is false.

My name does not mean strawberry, and there is absolutely nothing ironic, or humorous about my obsession with strawberry milk. I can't help that it tastes so damn good. So to avoid confusion, we will refer to my favourite flavour of milk as 'pink milk.'

Now that that's settled we may move on with the story.

Deep breathes.

I first met Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez during my night shift at the local convenience store. It was late, the streets were dead, and my mind was stuck dreaming about the warm bed I had waiting for me back at my apartment. I worked this job to pay for my high school tuition fees, rent and food; suffice to say I worked a lot, and had never had a high tolerance of inconsiderate people.

The man infuriated me; almost everything about him rubbed me the wrong way. He was arrogant, crude, impulsive and didn't care about how much of my time he took up loitering in the store. When, at my insistence, he waltzed up to the counter and smashed a bottle of pink milk down before me, I got the impression that he was extremely self assured and cared little for time. Stubborn bastard.

What a jerk. Who did he think he was, keeping me here at this late an hour for his own perverse humour?

And while his insensitive behaviour had me fuming, the fact that a part of me was reluctant to see him leave, enraged me all the more. I chalked it up to how good he was to look at; grade-A eye candy, it was the only thing he had going for him.

His body was that of a god, which in earthly terms might be comparable to a superficially enhanced underwear model. The fact that his otherworldly physique was covered by nothing more than a short pair of baby blue swimming trunks didn't help quell my blush.

His hair was an insanely bright shade of cornflour blue, not that I had any right to point fingers, with my mess of traffic-cone orange quills. It was styled up and blown back as if he'd been blasting it with a sonic hair dryer his whole life, and a couple of defiant strands hung over his forehead.

He smelt like the ocean; salt, sunscreen, fun, freedom and everything else I associated with the beach hung off his skin like cologne. Confident stance, cocky grin and lazy hands teasing the waistband of his shorts, revealing perfectly angular hipbones and an incredible six-pack; everything about him screamed sex appeal and freedom.

I realised too late that I'd been ogling him, and I couldn't help but blush as I hurried to snatch the milk, while he grinned like the Cheshire cat and mocked me with his twinkling ocean eyes.

"Will that be all today sir?" I ground out, scanning the bottle and sliding it back over to him.

"Nah, I don't think this'll be enough to satisfy my craving for strawberry, do you _Ichigo?_ " he purred, in a deep, incredibly sexy baritone, grinning at my name-tag and eyeing me like _I_ was the candy here.

"Growing boys do need their milk." I shrugged, a strained smirk tugging at my lips as my eyebrow twitched in irritation. "Don't you have a mommy to suckle from?"

He threw his head back and laughed, a low, contagious chuckle that caressed my ears, and my backbone almost crumbled.

"Perhaps there's a product you can suggest, that will sate a growing boy like me, _Ichigo_." His sultry insistence on repeating my name so sensually did things to my body I would never admit. "Although I can assure you, I've done a lot of my growing already…" He was purring again, leaning over the counter, his elbows propping his body up.

That last statement of his had my cheeks burning like hot coals and a gush of perverted images waging war in my mind as my witty tongue failed to find a retort.

During my silence, he took a large swig from the bottle, eyes never leaving mine as I watched the milk disappear down his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, and a dribble of pink sliding down his jaw.

He pulled away with a dripping pink milk moustache over his top lip.

While seeing a grown man with a pink milk moustache wasn't one of the most arousing sights I'd ever seen, I had to give him points for making me laugh. His confidence faltered for a second as the tension vanished and his grin faded. He looked so vulnerable for the split second I was laughing at him that I took pity on the asshole and went to great efforts to stifle my chuckles and make a stern face once again.

Then, as I finally regained some wits and snatched his money, he shocked me yet again. As I turned around, he was so far into my personal space that it startled me. He then grinned insanely and stole my first kiss.

It was an awkward first kiss, him coming up from under me slightly, and me getting the full brunt of the pink milk moustache. It tasted so good on his skin; sweet and fruity. A shiver of attraction zipped through my body; it was like a bolt of electricity. I shoved him away and forcefully kicked him out of the store, blushing and scowling as he ran off laughing into the night.

At the time, I was worked up, angry and uncharacteristically turned on as he was dashing off, never to be seen again. I didn't even know his name, and I didn't quite know how to feel about that.

But when I returned to the counter, somewhat downtrodden, I realised I must have spent longer zoning out and ogling him than I initially thought, because he'd somehow found the time to scribble a note down on his receipt.

He'd left me his name; Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, and a number to call. A ghost of a smile bloomed on my face, as butterflies erupted in my stomach and my heart beat a second too fast for the rest of my body.

If I'd only had some idea of the future I might have been smart and burned that note in the deepest fires of hell and scattered its ashes in the sea. But I've never really known what's good for me, have I?

* * *

A/N- So far this is just a oneshot, If you would like to see it continued, I'm sure leaving a review will drastically increase my motivation to follow it up.

Thanks for your time!


	2. Chapter 2- Elevator Tension

Summary- "A grown man with a pink milk moustache wasn't one of the most arousing sights I'd ever seen, but I had to give him points for making me laugh." ~ AU GrimIchi! Grimmjow's repeated attempts at wooing the ginger, all somehow revolving around their shared love for strawberry milk.

A/N- I do not own bleach, nor did I have Strawberry milk and two-minute noodles for breakfast- I actually had vegemite toast, in case you were wondering.

* * *

The second time I met Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was after my hastily devoured breakfast of two-minute noodles and a glass of pink milk. I was already late for work, and I dashed through the corridors of Las Noches apartment's fifth floor, rounding on the elevator just in time to find the doors closing.

Luckily, a foot darted out from inside as I approached, to hold it open for me, and I almost tripped over myself to reach it.

When I was finally safe inside the elevator, I sighed and allowed a moment to compose myself and straighten my dishevelled uniform. The cheerful elevator music, and the thought that I would not be late to work today, calmed me slightly.

That was when I noticed it hadn't moved, and it took a moment more to realize I had taken the spot next to the keypad.

"Oh, sorry, what number did you want?" I asked the other passenger, as it was only right to let my saviour's destination be first on my route to the ground floor.

"Yours." He said, and I froze. That voice was uncomfortably familiar, and my brain ceased functioning the moment it entered my ears. Slowly, I turned, to find the architect of my sleepless nights, leaning casually against the opposite wall; shock of bright blue hair, leering smirk and electric blue eyes identical to those in my memory.

An open Hawaiian print shirt was thrown over his shoulders, on top of his baby blue swimming trunks and bare feet.

"What kind of Idiot doesn't wear shoes in the city!-? Do you have any idea how unhygienic that is?" I blurted, before I could stop myself. I was immediately mortified, that I'd said _that_ to this beautiful creature, who had just saved me from being late, again, but he only laughed.

"Hey, you're the Strawberry-cutie from the store?" He grins, a surprisingly childish grin and held out his hand. I swear my heart skipped a beat, as I took it, shaking the firm hand of the man who had publicly molested me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, doing my best to glare at him, and keep my eyes from wandering down his bare chest.

"I live here, penthouse apartment." He shrugs and points towards the ceiling. "Number six."

It feels like a dream, as I punch the number into the keypad. I feel like I'm trapped in someone else's body, unable to control my actions, or break out of the mindless daze.

"What about you? What do you do?" He asks casually.

"I...Uh… I live here too, fifth floor, I go to school during the week and work every other hour." I stutter, palms sweating, knees shaking, as I fought to subdue my sudden bout of nerves.

"That's cool," he shrugs. "High-schooler…" A goofy, perverted grin seeps across his face.

I should punch him, yell at him, ask him what his problem was, but that's when the full implications of the situation hit me. I was stuck in an elevator with a crazy pervert, one who was also bigger and stronger than me. What would I do if he tried anything funny?

Just as I thought this, my premonition seemed to be coming true, as he closed in on me. My heart was beating in my ears as he grabbed me forcefully by the arm, and leaned down to my height. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't stop my palms from sweating as he leaned in closer.

Closer and closer, until I could feel him smirking against my lips, then his tongue darted out, to slide up the side of my jaw, and along my bottom lip.

"Got a little milk on your face, _Ichigo_…" He chuckled, pulling away and licking his lips, before the ping of the door brought me halfway back from the spirit world.

I knew I probably looked like an idiot, staring at him with eyes the size of Frisbees, mouth hanging open like a fish out of water and face as red as a tomato.

"Neh, Ichigo, I want you to come up to my apartment later tonight." He grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering from the cab.

"W-Why!_?" I managed to stutter. Why on earth would he want me in his apartment? Unless… "Nuh-ah! I don't do that." I barked, flushing even further. Who did this jerk think he was? Who did he think _I_ was?

"It's nothing like that, _Ichigo_, just dinner, you have my word, I won't come on to you." He crossed his hand over his heart, and tilted his head to the side. "I genuinely want to get to know you better, so what do you say?"

I was still sceptical, but couldn't deny my attraction, or curiosity as to who this perverted, shoeless, god was. If he lived in the penthouse, surely he could afford shoes?

Hesitantly, I nodded, just as the doors began to close.

"Great It's a date then! See you at seven!" He shouted gleefully, before the doors closed and I was alone in the elevator. The silence allowed my brain to finally return from holiday, and I pulled at my hair and groaned to myself.

That pervert had just licked me! In an elevator!

These things had cameras, god-dammit!

And, to top it all off, I had agreed to go to his apartment!-? Was I stupid? Why would I want to go on a date with someone like him?

By the time I reached the ground floor, I had worked myself into frenzy all over again. I swore my hair was already starting to fall out from stress and anger.

It didn't escape my notice that I was now even later for work than I would have been, had I taken the stairs.

* * *

A/N- I cannot take credit for the pick up line at the beginning of this story, it was created within the mind of lollilolli123 who you should, like, totes check out she's like meh lesbian lovurrr omg bybys.


	3. Chapter 3- Buy Me

Summary- "A grown man with a pink milk moustache wasn't one of the most arousing sights I'd ever seen, but I had to give him points for making me laugh." ~ AU GrimIchi! Grimmjow's repeated attempts at wooing the ginger, all somehow revolving around their shared love for strawberry milk.

A/N- I do not own bleach, BUT this time I do own strawberry milk! MWAHAHAHAH!

In your mind, imagine me, mimicking the motions of Rin from the end theme of Free, but instead of having water pouring over me dramatically as I laugh and dance around, it's pink milk.

* * *

My day at work was stressful and long. Every second ticked by like a countdown, every click of the clock bringing me closer and closer to a doom I wasn't sure I welcomed or not. The blue-haired Adonis was on my mind the whole time, making me fumble and blush at simple thoughts that assaulted my brain.

What kind of date was this going to be? Was Grimmjow the romantic type? Would he be cooking himself, or simply order a pizza?

What would I do if the bluenette tried to give me flowers?

_Queue steaming blush. _

"Kurosaki! Stop Daydreaming!" yelled one of my coworkers, I jumped, surprised to see a line of customers waiting for my attention. I stuttered my apologies and hurried to serve them.

On the subject of flowers, what if they were roses… what if he scattered them around his apartment, with candles and held my hand… poured me expensive wine… and slowly, he'd lean in, holding me with his fierce, passionate eyes as his lips were closing in….

Wait! What was I thinking? I wasn't a damn girl! There was no way I was swooning over a man I barely knew, and from what I did know of him, I doubted he'd be the romantic type…

The thought of him dragging me through the door, smashing me against a wall and crashing our lips together… Ravaging my body as I wrapped my legs around….

_WOAH! Hold up Ichigo, easy tiger, you are at work now; not the ideal place to get a boner. _

Face a blushing inferno, I lowered my head to the task I was getting paid for, immersing myself in my job in an attempt to purge him from my mind.

It wasn't like that would ever happen. There was no way I'd let it. It was completely out of character for me to be thinking such dirty thoughts in the first place.

What had gotten into me?

_Grimmjow had gotten into me… _

_NO BRAIN. NO. _

This was ridiculous; surely I was suffering from an illness, or my mind wouldn't be betraying me this way. My heart was already bad enough, skipping beats whenever he so much as appeared in my thoughts. Was my own body trying to kill me?

I must forget about Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

But then, the very man dominating my thoughts, waltzed up to my counter.

I stared. Blinked. Rubbed my eyes. He wasn't really here, was he? Surely the man before me was an illusion, summoned by my obsessive thoughts…

"Hey again, _Ichigo_." Grimmjow grinned his Cheshire grin, placing a shopping basket on the counter.

"W-What are you doing here!-?" I squeaked, blushing again as he licked his lips, reminding me of our encounter in the elevator.

"Just buying some stuff I thought we'd need for our date tonight." He smirked. "You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

"No…" I scowl as he begins taking out the items.

It was an automatic motion; scanning things, and I was much too distracted by trying to sneak peeks at him while he wasn't looking to take notice of what I was putting into bags.

Five punnets of strawberries.

Strawberry flavored whipped cream.

Strawberry flavored condoms.

Strawberry scented lube.

A _whole_ crate of strawberry milk.

Strawberry confectionaries.

Strawberry shortcakes.

Ping-pong balls.

Wait- WHAT? Ping-pong balls? What the hell were they for?

I held them in my hands, staring incredulously, and then looked at his smug face, and back to the balls, and back to his smug face.

"It's a surprise." He answered my unspoken question, so I hesitantly put them in the bag.

If I wasn't nervous about tonight before, I definitely was now.

What kind of game did he think he was playing? Buying that many strawberry products?

Was he mocking me?

Was this all some kind of game to him?

Suddenly I was angry. I didn't want to go to his apartment alone at night, who knows what kind of diabolical schemes he was planning, not to mention he obviously wasn't taking this as seriously as I was.

Scowling, I opened my mouth to tell him what I thought.

"I don't think this is a good idea." I say, as I finalize the transaction.

"Who cares? Just come, and I'll show you a night you'll never forget. " He grins so wide it's almost scary.

I wasn't reassured in the slightest.

I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off with a quick peck to the lips.

What the hell! I was working! People were staring. I feel myself clam up and blush, pursing my lips shut tightly.

"See ya at seven Ichigo! Just let yourself in," he exclaimed, running away before I could chew him out.

Just what on earth had I agreed to? There was no way I could stand for being strung along like this much longer. I was so angry; I wanted to punch him.

Thoroughly embarrassed, I turned back to the line of annoyed customers, offering a sheepish smile, before continuing on with my terribly nerve-wracking day.

I resolved, with a childish _'humph'_ and pout, which was entirely confined to my mind, that I wasn't going to his apartment tonight, no matter what he said. I would stay in my own room, with the doors and windows locked, drink pink milk in solitude, and try my damn hardest not to think about him.

Although it was bound to be difficult to keep such an annoying, insistent presence away, especially now I had all those strawberry products to fantasize about, and the possible uses he could have for them…

I couldn't deny I was curious… just what on earth was he planning?

A small… no, make that a LARGE part of me was desperate to find out. But curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

I was NOT going to go.


	4. Chapter 4- The Naked Man

Summary- "A grown man with a pink milk moustache wasn't one of the most arousing sights I'd ever seen, but I had to give him points for making me laugh." ~ AU GrimIchi! Grimmjow's repeated attempts at wooing the ginger, all somehow revolving around their shared love for strawberry milk.

A/N- I don't understand the point of disclaimers. How can anyone, with half a brain in their head, interpret my twisted bleach fanfictions as a challenge, a threat to Kubo's dominancy? In what way am I claiming ownership of bleach, by perverting its characters so? If I specify brands of strawberry milk, will I be required to disclaim those too? O.o

This chapter is the only reason behind the M rating. Contrary to my usual style, no smut has been planned for this story, that may, or may not change.

* * *

Before you jump to any conclusions, I assure you that I am not undertaking the journey to the sixth floor to attend the date with Grimmjow, nor does it have anything to do with seeing him again.

As I stand here, biting my nails and tapping my foot in the elevator listening to shitty pop music, I am in no way excited or nervous about this evening.

I had all day to think about this, and there is no reason to be nervous. I am simply going to walk up, knock on his door, politely decline his invitation to dinner, and express my disinterest in a relationship, then return to my room.

Yes, that's right. I am heading to the dates destination in order to inform Grimmjow that I wouldn't be attending…. Talk about contradictory. But I have no other choice; standing him up is simply out of the question, too cruel an option for me to take regarding my first date. Contacting him by phone is a double-edged sword; the consequence would be that he would then posses my number, and from what I knew of him, there's a chance he'd take that as an invitation to continue pursuing me.

After an eon of tormenting thoughts, i reached the dreaded sixth floor. As I stepped out of the elevator my mind was overrun by doubt. Doubt in my plan of evasion, and doubt of my passion for it. Surely I didn't really want a relationship with someone like him? For every positive trait I could think of, came a bundle of negative ones.

I found myself attracted to him nonetheless. It was his roguish appearance in my life that broke through monotony, and I was grateful for that. Yet I could see no future with this man. A spontaneous man who roamed the city without shoes or shirts, a man who purchased pink milk at two in the morning and hit on teens shamelessly. It was admirable, to a degree, and I'll admit being a hopeless romantic and fantasizing a little, but reality always struck home. Reality dictated that my future didn't consist of a rover like him.

I found his door easily enough, as it was directly opposite the elevator and stuck out like a sore thumb. I was standing in a foyer, consisting of two plastic palm trees with a set of stairs to the side. Grimmjow's door was blue, but not an ordinary blue, one that was so poorly done, and out of sync with the building's color spectrum that it hurt to look at.

I ran the lines through my head for the fiftieth time, before knocking on the door.

Silence followed. So I knocked again, and again, and again, before remembering his words.

"_Just let yourself in." _

Just how intimate a relationship did he think we had? Who would let a complete stranger into their home like this?

I sighed, steeled myself, and with hesitant fingers turned the knob as if the oceans depths were about to break free. The door swung open eerily, and I stood awkwardly as, by some default evasive maneuver of my brain aimed at easing the impact, my eyes took in meaningless details first.

A plastic lawn was rolled across his living room floor, more artificial palm trees, and a shiny pink flamingo. His furniture had been pushed to the corners so as not to obstruct the tropical paradise backdrop he had set up.

Then, inevitably, my eyes fell on the man himself. If my jaw weren't already on the ground, it would have dropped like a lead weight.

In the center of the room was a children's inflatable lawn pool, with designs of dancing rubber ducks around the side, and filled to the brim with pink milk.

Reclining majestically in the milk was none other than Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez himself, strong arms and muscled calves splayed languidly over the sides, and insane Cheshire grin eating up his entire face.

"Like what you see, _Ichigo_? I thought you needed to relax. Rather thoughtful if I do say so myself." He purred smugly.

Taking my dumbfounded silence as nerves, he thought it suitable to continue. "I went to the trouble of having the first course right here for you. Are you hungry? Because I have something quite tasty…"

Then he proceeded to stand up. But this was no ordinary standing up; this was rising seductively from a bath of pink milk. His beautiful, naked body stretching regally from the depths, as droplets of pale pink licked at every defining contour of his frame.

The milk followed the path of gravity, running from his darkened blue locks, and down the lines of his neck, gathering between his pectorals before either slipping between them or circling around, along each of his distinct abs like they were an obstacle course, and down the V at his hips to drip from his manly assets.

Of course, the milk was dripping from his perfect, toned legs, strapping arms and fingertips as well, but it was the percentage of tasty pink liquid that descended his half-erect, impressive manhood that drew all of my attention.

There was no doubt what tasty treat he had in mind for my indulgence, yet my brain had been completely short circuited, and I was currently unable to form a sound, let alone formulate a sentence.

I liked pink milk; it was my guilty pleasure, but licking it from another mans body in an inflatable pool, under the scrutinizing glare of a pink lawn flamingo was entirely too much.

I'm ashamed to say the squeal that escaped my throat was in no way manly, nor the raging blush that set fire to my entire body. If it wasn't the brazen display of another man's junk to my virgin eyes that sent me running on autopilot down the stairs, three at a time, feet pounding and heart racing, it was the suggestion of THAT being Grimmjow's idea of an entrée. My mind didn't even dare imagine what he'd planned for a second course, and the possibility of a third could not safely register.

"_I'll show you a night you'll never forget." _He'd said, and there was no doubt he would succeed if I'd dared stay, He had already shown me a _sight_ I'd never forget. It was no understatement to say I'd been scarred for life.

* * *

A/N- its entirely possible he could still posses a ping pong table… possible but unlikely…

It is grating on my nerves that my GrimIchi smut oneshot- TORQUE has 9 reviews. Over FIFTY favorites' but NINE reviews. Why? I HATE the number 9.

Why can't it be 10? Or 8? ANYTHING but 9.

Will someone, anyone, please go review it. I will literally send you cookies if you dare trust me with your address. O.o


	5. Chapter 5- Guilty As Charged

Summary- "A grown man with a pink milk moustache wasn't one of the most arousing sights I'd ever seen, but I had to give him points for making me laugh." ~ AU GrimIchi! Grimmjow's repeated attempts at wooing the ginger, all somehow revolving around their shared love for strawberry milk.

A/N- My underwear have strawberries on them! ;) I feel like I have a soul-deep connection with Ichigo now, or at least a panties-deep one. I don't own bleach, or the berry, or strawberry milk. But my underwear smells like strawberry milk, so I'm doing okay.

* * *

I didn't stop running until I was safely barred behind the locked doors of my own room, and several layers of furniture. I was breathing heavily as I slouched into my lounge, and curled up in the fetal position, eyeing the door as if hellhounds were about to break through.

I'd run away from my problems instead of facing them head on, and I wasn't proud of that. But seriously, what did he expect? I was so… so…. Overwhelmed. I was sure my brain would have rushed out of my nose If I'd stayed a moment longer. My face was burning, my eyes were burning, and even the tips of my fingers were shaking with heat.

Had he honestly expected that display to impress me? He'd only reassured what I already knew. He was an asshole; a smug, selfish, arrogant asshole. How many people had fell under the sway of Grimmjow's alpha male charm?

Did he seriously expect me to fall all over him like his previous conquests?

There was no way that was happening. I was Ichigo Kurosaki; an esteemed prude. If he didn't know that much then he obviously wasn't committed to capturing me. I refused to be a trophy conquest for a selfish, grandstanding and vulgar man like him.

I buried my blushing face in the pillows, before the insistent knock at my door sent me jumping out of my skin.

"Ichigo! Open up! I know you want me!" he yelled, his voice was gruff and slightly annoyed. It sent me careening from the couch and dashing like the mad hatter around my apartment, searching for anything that could protect me from that gravelly tone.

I jumped under my kitchen table, still in view of the double barred door, and grabbed a large saucepan for good measure, brandishing it in front of me like a baseball bat.

"I don't want you!" I yelled back. "I only came to tell you to stop pursuing me!" From my vantage point I could see the shadow of his feet under the door, and the milk seeping through the carpet towards me. He hadn't even bothered to put clothes on before coming here, and he was probably standing naked and dripping milk in the hallway. It made me even angrier to think I'd be the one cleaning it all off before it festered.

"Liar! I know you want me, who wouldn't? I've got everything!" Was his egotistical reply, and I could feel myself trembling with anger. I found it hard to believe a person this stupid actually existed; hard to believe he was being serious. But I could hear it in his voice; that utter confidence. It made me feel slightly sorry for being the one to break his bubble. But someone had to do it; this guy needed a huge wake up check.

"Everything!-?" I screeched, "What about modesty, tact, sanity, intelligence, foresight, conscience, honesty, honor, compassion, intuition, humility, realism, responsibility, respect, selflessness, sincerity, manners, discretion, sensitivity! " They just went on… and on… and on… I didn't even know I knew that many words to describe Grimmjow's flaws, but once I started I couldn't stop until it was physically impossible to continue. The need for air was the only reason I ceased my insults.

There was no reply from beyond my door, no comeback, harsh banging or narcissistic comment, but I could still see his feet.

"And shoes!" I added as a snapping afterthought. Once I'd caught my breath he was still standing there. He hadn't moved a muscle, so I thought I'd wrap up the conversation before I did irreparable damage to his psyche.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr Jaegerjaquez." I continued, in a much softer tone, "But you are far from perfect, and I'm not interested in you, or whatever you have to offer, so please leave me alone."

There were a few moments of silence, where I was strung taught, and my grip on the saucepan tightened until my knuckles were white as a sheet. I didn't know what I'd been expecting after that, but when his feet finally moved, and he turned and left, I wasn't expecting the rush of guilt and self-pity that overtook me.

It hit me then that I'd been a little harsh, maybe a little too harsh. He was probably a really nice guy, and did possess the majority of traits mentioned, just not in excess. Who was I to judge him so harshly? I didn't know anything about the man, and I was far from perfect myself.

In a burst of regret I rushed to the door, discarding the saucepan along the way and swinging it wide open. Only to find the hallway completely empty, save the puddle of pink milk before my door.

What was wrong with me? Maybe if I'd at least given him a chance he could have proved himself a nice person. He was incredibly attractive, and maybe someone as overbearing as him would be good for me? Why did I always ruin a good thing before it had even started?

Did I want to remain a virgin for the rest of my life? The way I was going, it seemed like I had it out for myself. I had just brutally rejected the most handsome man I'd ever laid eyes on. His features were even more striking than mine. It was a pity he'd been such an insufferable brute.

A small part of me hoped that I'd see him again, get the chance to apologize for my onslaught. But another part, the half that stereotypically had devil horns, was full of praise. _Served him right, he needed to be told the truth, it was for his own good, _it whispered in my ear.

I was tearing myself up inside with indecision on which part to go with. I wasn't sure I even had the guts to face him again after everything I'd said. I hadn't even meant half of it; the part about not being interested was a lie. Who wouldn't be interested? He had something unique, and his self-righteousness was attractive in its own way.

But alas, I had no one else to blame for my loneliness, and it was almost destined that I would die a virgin.

With a resigned sigh I retrieved a washcloth from the kitchen and proceeded to scrub the milk from the carpet before it stunk up the hallway. My annoyance escalated as I noticed the trail leading all the way down from the elevator.

The next half an hour was spent on my hands and knees scrubbing the pink milk from the carpet. By the time I had finished I'd decided to go with the devil-horned part of my soul.

He'd totally deserved it.

Utterly content with myself, I retrieved some pink milk from the fridge, and sat at my kitchen table. The silence echoed in my head, and the hands of the clock ticked irritably. I sipped at the rim of my glass, completely satisfied with myself.

When I pulled the glass away, I knew I had a milk moustache; I could feel it. My first reaction was humiliation, even though nobody was around to witness the sight. Then the image of the shirtless, proud, blue haired flirt wearing his own pink milk moustache invaded my mind, and I suddenly chuckled.

Even the memory cracked me up; his twinkling ocean eyes, puffed out chest and Cheshire grin. There was no denying Grimmjow had rocked that pink milk moustache better than I ever could.

Thoughts of the blue haired devil brought about feelings of guilt. My first kiss, stolen by the merry blue man, and my second too, the boyish grin he'd worn at our second meeting, his carefree attire, happy-go-lucky attitude, and the smell of freedom that he practically radiated.

I put the glass down as my heart tore, staring into the milk as if it held all the answers. The pink liquid swirled around in the glass, all innocent and creamy as I waged a terrible war with myself above it. Then it hit me; like a bolt of lighting.

Then suddenly I stood up, scraping my chair back as I ran to the door, and bolted down the hallway. My feet followed the trail of milk I'd just cleaned all the way to the stairs, where the milk was still wet. I had figured beyond my hallway was someone else's problem to clean, but Grimmjow had obviously left trails all the way from his room.

I ascended the stairs two at a time, my heart was racing in my ears with the exertion the rush had put on my body. Why was I rushing? Sure, I'd come to a realization, and had made a life changing decision, but there was no need to rush. Grimmjow would still be there when I arrived, and there was no use straining myself. So I slowed down and climbed the stairs with caution.

I felt like sleeping beauty, climbing the stairs to find the spinning wheel, only the wheel I would find was not one that would put me in a deep sleep for all eternity. This was the wheel of life and fortune and I was going to set it spinning.

I'd always been a prude, and had never focused on living my life to the fullest, but who was I kidding now? I was still interested in that shameless man, I couldn't get him out of my head ever since I'd met him. Now that I'd spoken my mind, I was willing to give him a chance.

There was no way I was going to die a sixty year old virgin, and who in their right mind wouldn't at least give him a chance?

"Grimmjow!" I yelled, rounding the last stair to find his door ajar. I was panting like an old horse, but in my excitement pausing wasn't an option.

In his house, the lights were all off, and the moonlight streamed in, still low in the sky, to land on the glowing bath of Pink Milk.

I realized then, what an effort he had gone through to cart the whole tropical scene into his building. The palm trees were heavy, and the plastic lawn was lain out carefully. The Flamingo was thoughtfully placed, and the paradise backdrop had been painted on a sheet. The pool would have had to be blown up with air, and all the milk poured into it.

As I ventured further into his apartment, I found dishes of strawberry delicacies spread across his kitchen table, and his bedroom set up like a love hotel.

But Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was nowhere to be found, and the bead of hope that had struck me crashed and burned.

* * *

A/N- I hope you've enjoyed this story, because I have enjoyed writing it immensely, but I realize now that it should have remained a one-shot… not that I regret trying, but there's no way I can realistically bring them together at this point without dragging it out much longer than initially intended.

This is an end to the story. Grimmy walked away; he left. Maybe he was hurt? Or maybe he gave up? In any case, this is the end for the moment. ;) Until i return with a sequel!


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